Half Immune
by Jerem6401
Summary: The infection takes over a group of teenagers in Boston... yet strangely Henry Crane recieves all the symptoms of becoming an infected... without losing his mind.
1. Party Time

It had been two weeks since the infection started. They had us on red alert here in Boston, Massachusetts. The infection had already taken over most of New York City and they were doing their best to contain it. Their city was in the dark, blocked of from the rest of civilization. It was played off as just a sickness, a fatal disease that was quickly spreading throughout the state. That was the worst part of this whole thing… we were clueless. We had no details about this disease, the symptoms, the effects, or even the name. It was a faceless killer that was quickly capturing the attention of the nation. For something so popular around the world, it was something that was shrouded in mystery. Friends and family across the nation were cut off from us. No mail could be sent out, and especially not taken in. The city of New York was quarantined, everyone was. People tried to act like nothing was happening. No footage had been released from New York since the first day of the infection. News teams pushed the story away as an outbreak of a flu-like virus, and it seemed that medical teams were always "on the breakthrough" of creating a vaccine for this disease. I did my best to try and follow this trail that everyone else had accepted… like mindless zombies. However something in me, some nagging voice was telling me things weren't going to get any better. That this infection wasn't just a disease that was making people sick, or killing them. That this horrible virus was actually doing much, much worse.

My name is Henry Crane. I'm an eighteen year old college student living in south Boston, Massachusetts. My mother and father come from wealthy families, so needless to say I was raised with above average accommodations. I had the latest video games, several pools, more than three cars… but none of it really made me happy. I always longed for something else, something simpler. I tore away from the stranglehold of television, media, and expensive vehicles to try and find something to do with myself, something that would benefit more people than just myself. When word of the infection reached my ear, I knew it was my chance to break away from this path I had been walking my whole life.

"We're gunna have some kind of crazy night, Henry," was the first thing I remember hearing. The date was October 28th, 2021. I was sitting in my college cafeteria with a few of my friends from class. It was a Friday evening and classes were officially done for the weekend. I snapped back into reality and glanced at David Bradley. He was sitting to my right, stuffing a piece of pizza into his mouth. David was… well… how can I put it… fat. He usually wore black T-shirts that were way too small for his body. Most of the time his gut would peek out from the bottom of the shirt for a quick hello before he quickly shoved it back inside.

"What do you mean 'crazy night?'" I asked him. He sipped his soda and gave some quick, sharp glances around the table. I looked as well at the marvelous group of weirdoes we'd managed to pick up over the past few months. There was Tory Milton, who wasn't exactly a looker. She had a freckled face with bright red pigtails… a lot like the girl on the Wendy's sign. She was pretty tall and usually some skimpy clothes to try and make herself look more attractive… or more like a whore. I could never really tell which. Then there was Richard, Richard Foltz. This was a boy who basically lived in the school gym. He was one of the top linebackers on the football team, and that didn't go unnoticed. He was one of the most popular kids in school, which helped out my image quite a bit. My friend Jason Pratt of course wasn't sitting with us at the moment. He was always leaving every meal, every class, every lecture to run outside and have a puff. Every time I warned him that this addiction was going to kill him he'd always reply, "hey, better this than that fucking infection."

"Dude, I got us all hooked up," replied David. He reached down to his backpack after inspecting the area. He unzipped the main pouch and lifted it into the light. I got a glimpse of a bottle inside, full of a delicious, amber colored fun. He quickly rezipped the backpack and set it back down on the floor. "My brother hooked me up with that handle, man. He said he'd get us more whenever he could." He put up a hand and let out a few coughs, probably from eating and talking at the same time. Suddenly Jason came stumbling into the room, followed by the Dean. Dean Piccard grabbed a pack of cigarettes from Jason's hand and pointed him towards out table.

"Just have a seat, Mister Pratt," he said firmly. "This discussion will only take a second and then you can go back to finishing off this pack." Jason fixed his color on his discolored plaid shirt and slumped towards out table.

"Whatever," he said quietly. He sat next to me and I was instantly punched by the smell of smoke. Piccard stood at the door and put his hands in the air.

"Attention all students!" he shouted. "This announcement was just given at the main campus, and you will be the last to hear it." I put my head in my hand. Another lecture was not what I needed on a Friday night. "I would like everyone to know that all classes for next week have officially been cancelled due to a sudden outbreak of illness among a few of the students." The room suddenly broke into an uproar of cheers, with highfives all around.

"I'm getting drunk Sunday night, too!" yelled David. Piccard started shushing the room and a quietness began to trickle over the scene again.

"Enough about your drinking habits, Mister Bradley," he said calmly. "As for measures against this sickness. We have put up several new hand sanitizers in all buildings, use of which is not only recommended, but mandatory. Also no sharing drinks, food, or smokes." Piccard held up the pack of cigarettes he took from Jason only moments ago, who was fiddling with his lighter the whole time. "Well, I've given you good news, but the bad news is there is now an eleven-o-clock curfew. No being on the streets after that time or you will be charged a fifty dollar fine, is that clear?" There were some groans in the room, but nothing too serious. I mean no classes? You can't really beat that.

The night came quickly and we had all settled down in David's apartment. I was pouring myself another shot, while the another aimlessly stumbled around the room, slapping highfives and trying to prove their sobriety to one another. I had reached a point where every little thing seemed funny to me. David had lost all control and was currently dancing near his television, waving the empty rum bottle in the air and singing old pirate tunes. Others would join in with his dancing, but mostly ended up trying to keep big Dave on his feet. Most of the people in the room were so wasted that it wouldn't shock me if someone like Tory got laid. Some new faces were hanging around as well. There was Brock from the school soccer team, who was a short and stout kind of guy. He supplied us with another few bottles of vodka and a couple beers since he was twenty-two. My eyes were mostly drawn to Veronica Truss, who was some kind of fox. She was funny, beautiful, and had a dynamite body. I kept a close count on how many drinks she was taking to try and place my move just right.

"Dude," started Richard, "you gunna say something to her or just stare at her the whole night?" I gulped and sighed.

"I don't know man," I replied, trying my hardest not to slur my words. "Maybe tonight's not the best night… I heard she's been real down lately and I don't want to end up making her feel more down when she's already down and being down is just being down and down is not where you wanna be when you're feeling down…"

"Okay, okay," he interrupted. "Maybe it is better if you wait until later. I nodded and slowly stood up from the couch.

"Well it's only a matter of time before I pass out… so I think I'm gunna hit the bedroom," I said between hiccups.

"Make sure the bed's empty before you get in!" Richard called out as I left. He laughed at his humor, but was cut off when Jason decided to throw himself onto Richard for no apparent reason. I stumbled down the hallway, holding onto the wall as I went. I was trying to keep my balance, but it was like the entire room was shifting left and right. I was only a few steps from the first guest room when nature started calling. I sighed and took a right into the bathroom. I slowly opened the door and fell towards the toilet. I started to unzip my fly when David's fat silhouette appeared the in the doorway. He ran up to me and pushed me away from that bowl that was about to give me so much relief. He dropped to his knees and screamed into the toilet. I heard the waterfall of vomit splash into the bowl as David dropped around five pounds.

"That's nice," I said mockingly. "Always what I want to see when I'm about to call it a night." It was only a matter of time before that horrible stench hit my nose and I would end up in the same position as him. A smell did eventually reach my nose… but it was nothing like I expected. It smelled… it smelled great. Like fresh cooked food. It was so delicious smelling that I became instantly starved. I turned to the door and stumbled back to the hall towards the kitchen. I leaned against the kitchen table and looked around for what was cooking.

"Henry, I thought you went to bed," said a soft voice. I looked to my right and instantly started sweating. It was Veronica's glowing face staring back at me, with these wondrously beautiful eyes. I looked for the right words to say, but couldn't really find anything.

"What are you guys cooking out here?" I asked finally. Veronica started laughing and grabbed my arm. She pulled me away from the table and walked me back down the hallway. As we passed the bathroom I was hit with that amazing scent again. Veronica began sniffing and put on a face of disgust.

"Gross David!" she yelled. We continued into the bedroom and she laid me down on the bed. I smiled at her and rested my head on the pillow. She turned to leave, but looked back at me with another small smile. She turned around and leaned down over me, giving me a tender kiss. The breath was taken from me and I'm sure I only had a dumbfounded look of shock on my face. She giggled and then turned around and left the room. I don't remember anything after that… I must've passed out as soon as she left the room.


	2. Aftermath

The next morning I woke up by a knock at the door to David's apartment. I sat up out of bed, strangely only having to endure a small headache. I made it to the main room to see everyone else already awake and sitting around the television. Some had looks of pure disgust on their face, because any minute their drinks from last night were going to explode out of their mouths. All of the bottles were put away and the apartment actually looked very clean. That was a really good thing, considering who was knocking at the front door.

"Hello, David!" yelled his mother. She waddled into the room and gave her son a big hug. She turned around and saw all of us sitting on the couch and she put on a bigger smile. "Hi, everyone! I made some cake for David and you guys!" The ones who were sick keeled over and curled into a ball, while those of us who didn't have too much to drink ran over and grabbed the cake. We cut ourselves some slices and sat down next to our sick friends. We began shoveling the cake into our mouths, complimenting on how good it tasted until the others had to run out of the room to barf. Mostly it was me and Jason doing all the taunting, which was enough to make it hilarious. David's mother was confused but kept on her giant smile. Her eyes got to me and suddenly her smile went away.

"Is something wrong?" I asked her while chewing. I'd known David's mother for as long as I can remember. Me and David go back to elementary school, so I was really like a second son to her. She quickly walked up to me and grabbed my chin, examining my face. She was squishing my mouth together, looking at my cheeks for some reason. Normally it would've been embarrassing… but that was never really a factor anymore around my friends.

"Henry, dear," she started, "you don't look so good. You're positively pale." I looked around the room, noticing everyone else giving me an odd look. I stood up and ran to a mirror hanging in David's living room. My God, she was right. My skin was pure white, a deathly color of gray. I must've come down with something bad last night.

"Hey everyone," said a voice from behind me. I turned and saw Veronica walking into the room, her skin was also this horrible tint of white. I gulped and the rest of the room started cheering.

"Looks like Henry and Veronica got a little close last night," Jason said mockingly. Veronica looked around the room and wiped some sweat from her forehead. When her eyes fell on me she instantly got angry and pointed at me viciously. Her fingernail sticking towards me like a dagger.

"This is all your fault!" she yelled. "I got sick because of you!" I put up my hands in defense and backed away from her.

"Hey," I started, "how do you know I didn't catch it from you? Maybe you were sick first." She suddenly went from lividly angry, to depressing sad. She dropped her face into her hands and started to cry.

"Why does everyone always blame me?!" she yelled. She turned around and ran down the hallway, her cries becoming quieter and quieter as she went. We heard the door close at the end of the hall and the cries stop. I sighed and looked at my reflection once again. I didn't feel sick, in fact I felt better than ever, but my skin was just so pale.

"Oh I get it," David's mother yelled out. "All you kids were drinking last night, and now you're all dehydrated. Right? Shame on you. Oh, poor dear. You just need some water. You don't seem sick at all, so that's the only thing I can think of." I smiled and gave a little nod. I got myself a glass of water from David's faucet and quickly drank it down. "See," she started, "you look better already. Now take care of yourselves… nobody drive. Also make sure everything's okay with that girl." We all nodded and waved as David's mother left the room and closed the door behind her.

"You don't really look any better," Richard said after a few moments. I looked at him and jumped a little.

"You're not looking so great yourself," I replied. Richard stared at me in wonder and jumped off the couch. He ran to the mirror and examined his face. He yelled in horror that his good looks were now blemished. His enter bottom jaw was now a bright red. How you get a rash on your bottom jaw I'm not really sure… but he did.

"What the hell is happening?" Richard asked furiously. "Why are you and Veronica changing colors and why do I have a rash on my chin?" I shrugged and looked around.

"Maybe it's something in this apartment," I said finally. "David you should really get it checked." I went to look David in the eye, but he was gone. After a few more moments of searching, Brock cleared everything up for me.

"He's in the bathroom throwing up," he stated. "He and Tory had way too much last night. They've been in that bathroom forever." I shook my head, trying not laugh at that situation.

"So is there anything wrong with anyone else?" I asked. "What about you, Brock?" He looked back and forth and kind of shrugged.

"Nothing new, really," he replied. "I hurt my back in soccer the other day. It's acting up right now, but that's normal in the morning." I looked into the mirror again and slowly looked over myself. I'd never been so noticeably pale before. That's when the thought hit me. What if this was it? What if none of us had similar symptoms… because this was a disease we'd never seen before? What if we all had the infection?

"Guys," I started, very softly, "what if this is it?"

"What if this is what?" asked Richard, still looking at his chin is pure depression.

"What if this is that infection that's in New York right now… you know, the one they never tell us about," I asked, nervously. There was a silence that fell across the room right there, an eerie quiet as all these college students felt like their lives could possibly be ending. Until Jason burst into laughter and slapped his knees.

"Really, Henry?" he asked me. "You call dehydration, skin irritation, a sore back, and binge drinking an illness. Dude, they're all common things. If people were coughing up lungs or getting dizzy then maybe we'd have something to worry about, but just give it an hour. You'll look fine again, Rich can grab some lotion for his face, David will be thirty pounds lighter and everything will be fine again." I sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, you're probably right," I admitted. "Or at least I really hope you are."

"Hey guys," David muttered as he stumbled into the room. We all looked at him in disgust, half of us wanted to laugh, while the other half was sincerely concerned. He had a few drips of deep green vomit sliding down his lip, while his giant gut was starting to hang out from under his shirt.

"Dude, can you put that away?" asked Brock. "There are people with weak stomachs here… that aren't nearly as large as yours." David grabbed his shirt and tried pulling it down over his stomach, but it just couldn't make it.

"Damn," he grunted, "must've shrunk in the wash. I'll go grab another one. Sorry, but I might be kicking you guys out soon." In mid-sentence David stopped and started sniffing. He put his hand up and waved the smell away from his nose. He glared at Jason and sighed.

"If you're going to smoke so God damned much," he started at Jason, "could you at least have the decency to do it outside." Jason looked back and forth and then smirked a little.

"Are you still drunk?" he asked. David looked confused, as did everyone else in the room. "I haven't smoked since late last night."

"Dude… that shit's deep in your clothes, man," Richard stated, finally sitting back down on the couch. Jason grabbed his shirt and sniffed it.

"Dude, you're right," he replied. "I do reek of smoke. My roommate will kill me if I go back smelling like this. Mind if I grab a shower and borrow a shirt?" David nodded and Jason made his way to the bathroom. I looked around the room, almost regretting speaking my mind. There was an uneasiness in the room now. An awkward quiet that had brushed over us like a wind, broken up by the occasional attempted small-talk. None of us wanted to admit it, but the announcement in the dining hall, the mystery in New York, we knew the possibility was high. We knew that we may have this illness… we may have the infection.


	3. Acceptance

I was just sitting on the edge of bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror. It wasn't like I had never looked at myself in the mirror before, but all I could do was stare… and wonder. Seconds ticked by, which turned into minutes, and then spiraled into hours. My skin was still pale, and I wasn't even thirsty. Dehydration wasn't what was causing this discoloration, as much as I prayed for it. I eventually put my hands on my head and tried shaking the thought of the infection out of my mind. I remembered all the horrible rumors that were spreading about the disease. People talked about infected humans going so insane that they would chew off their own limbs, unknowingly step off the edge of skyscrapers, and simply wander through the streets… as just an empty shell. Thinking about it wasn't solving anything, and worrying about my friends wasn't putting my mind at ease. I would look at my cell phone sitting on my bed every now and again, wondering whether or not to call my parents and tell them my troubles. I felt like it would only be worrying them for no good reason. There was no doctor standing in my room, telling me I had the infection, and no SWAT team outside layering caution tape around my door. I told myself again and again it was nothing, not sure whether or not I was lying.

I stood up and walked to the refrigerator in my apartment. I looked inside for something that would settle my stomach, and mind. I picked up an apple and quickly put it back down, some celery, some ice cream, soda, nothing. Nothing in that fridge was sounding appealing to me at all, as much as I usually loved to eat them. Suddenly and smell reached me, and made my taste buds start leaking drool. I looked through my fridge again, but didn't find anything that was making that delicious scent. I turned around and saw that my window was creaked open. I ran to the window and stuck my head out. I looked across the street to where Jason's apartment was. I sniffed again and again before pulling my head back into my window. I knew that smell… definitely some kind of barbeque over at his place. I ran to my closet and pulled out a black sweatshirt. I slid it on and quickly laced up my sneakers. I opened my door and charged downstairs.

"Please be burgers… please be burgers," I mumbled to myself. I was so hungry, and for some reason only burgers sounded appealing to me. I started across the street, too preoccupied with the smell in the air to really watch where I was going. I could see smoke coming from behind Jason's building and got even more excited. It wasn't until I loud noise knocked me from my trance that I actually realized where I was. It was a familiar sound, but one I hoped to never hear. It was the horn of a truck, a loud desperate noise that was far too close to me. I was standing in the middle of the road, with a truck barreling down the street at me. I looked behind me and saw a taxi speeding up behind me, it too was screaming its horn. I was trapped in the center of the road, neither car was able to stop in time.

"Shit… shit, SHIT!" I yelled. As the cars got closed something strange happened. It was almost like time itself slowed down. The light all around me became dimmer and took on an orange glow. I crouched down in the middle of the road and looked back and forth. Nothing I did was under my control, like some buried instinct in my body just took over. I knew I only had one shot at the impossible, one shot to live. I jumped to the side as the truck sped by me. The wind from the machine brushed against my skin as I slowly flew through the air. I was now directly in front of the taxi coming the opposite direction. I braced for impact and got ready to drop straight in front of the taxi. However, right where it should have hit me, I noticed something odd. The hood was below me. Somehow I had jumped high enough to get myself clear over the oncoming car's hood and windshield. Right at the peak of my jump, my hand shot downward and planted on the roof of the taxi for just a second. I pushed myself even higher into the air as the taxi passed right underneath me. I started falling again, but right before I hit the ground my body started to flip itself, making me land directly on my feet. So there I was, standing in the middle of the road again, the taxi and truck sliding to stops on either side of me.

"Kid… are you okay!?" yelled a voice from the taxi. I looked at the man sticking his head out of the window and took some deep breaths. Time sped up again and my vision returned to normal. My heart rate started to slow down, and I tried to find the words to answer. The man got out of his car and ran up to me. He put his hands on my shoulders and held me still.

"Yeah… I guess I'm fine," I said quietly. The man nodded and dusted me off a little.

"You gotta watch where you're going kid," he said to me. "It's only a matter of time before you don't quite make that leap of faith you did right now." I was still breathing heavily and slowly nodded my head. I gulped and ran a hand through my hair. "Go lay down, kid. Maybe even go see a doctor, you're not looking so hot." I nodded again, mainly because it's all I could really do. I couldn't believe what just happened to me. The man checked with me once again, making sure I wasn't hurt. When I reassured him of my health he turned around and took off in his taxi. I took some deep breaths and looked at Jason's apartment building. I was still starved, and suddenly my mind was filled with thoughts of food once again.

When I walked around the back of the building I saw what I had been dying to see. Jason was standing in front of a grill, flipping burgers and hotdogs over a hot flame. My spirits shot up as I ran up to see him. He saw me coming and put on a small smile. He was wearing another one of his plaid, button-down shirts, and once again was completely reeking of smoke.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked. "I've been starving and this is really the only thing that sounds good to me." He nodded and flipped the burgers again.

"Yeah," he replied, "no ploblem. I waf dying for sthome burgers, too." When I was about to sniff the burgers again, I stopped and looked at Jason.

"Are you feeling okay?" I asked him. "You sound kind of weird." Jason sighed and looked down at the grill.

"Stho, you notithed, too?" he asked. "My tongue ith all sthwollen. It sthtarted to turn blue, too. I think maybe I've been sthmoking too much."

"Dude… are you serious?" I asked, worriedly. He nodded and few times and opened his mouth. What I saw was completely horrifying. Jason's tongue had turned a grotesque bluish gray and was completely swollen. It filled his whole mouth and only stuck out a tiny bit. His gray saliva slithered around over it like his tongue was some kind of slug living inside Jason's mouth. "You have to go to the hospital!" Jason closed his mouth and shook his head.

"Dude, believe me… I tried," he replied. "All the hosthpitals are closthed. They aren't letting anyone insthide. It'sth ridiculousth." Jason looked back at the grill and started to take the burgers that had been on the grill for a while off. He slid them onto some buns sitting on the side of the grill and handed one to me.

"But why would the hospitals shut down?" I asked. He shrugged and forced the burger into his clogged mouth. I bit into mine and immediately put it down. I cringed and looked at Jason, who was doing the same thing. We both put the burgers down and shook out heads at each other.

"Too cooked?" he asked me. I nodded and he took some burgers that had been on the grill for less time off. He put them between the buns and handed me one. I bit into it, and was taken back for a moment. The burger was cold and mushy, barely cooked at all… but it was delicious. I knew it was probably terrible for me, but I couldn't resist eating more. I looked up and saw Jason doing the same thing. He had completely thrown the bun away and was pressing the mushy meat into his mouth. Drips of red liquid were leaking from his lips as he wolfed the burger down. Before I knew it, mine was gone, too. After we finished those burgers, followed by another few, my hunger was satisfied. However, once I was finished, I realized what had just happened. The ground was covered with liquid that had sprayed from the raw meat and a package of burgers had been eaten without even touching the grill. After the first burger, no bun was touched for the rest, and the burgers we had thrown away for being too cooked, were a bright pink in the center. Jason and I looked at each other and both started to take some deep breaths.

"Okay," he said finally, "sthomethingsth definitely wrong. Maybe it ith the infection, maybe it'sth not. Either way, sthomething ith definitely not right." I nodded and sat down at a table on the patio behind Jason's building. It sighed and looked at my hand. It had chips of yellow paint on it, from the taxi cab. I closed my hand into a fist and thought hard.

"I don't get it," I said quietly. Jason looked at me in wonder, and then took a seat next to me. "If we are both sick, there's a distinct chance that this is the infection. Although that's really harsh of me to say, we both know it's true." Jason sighed and nodded, we both knew, so what was the use of hiding it. "But that doesn't explain why we're experiencing such different things." We thought for a moment, sitting out in the sunlight, just wondering. I then noticed Jason examining what I was wearing. I looked at him in confusion, and watched as he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.

"That'sth it!" he yelled. "We both have the sthame thing, but it affectsth usth differently becausthe we lived differently. Me sthmoking hasth done thisth to me. The reasthon your sthkin isth so pale ith becausthe you never exposthe it to the sthun. You're alwaysth wearing that damned sthweatshirt." I looked at my sweatshirt and then up at the sun. It was crazy to think, but Jason actually had a point. For as long as I could remember I had been wearing this sweatshirt whenever I went outside, despite how hot it was. Some called me 'emo,' but I just thought it was comfortable. Plus all the sweating in the summer kept me in shape. Then another thought hit my mind.

"What about the others?" I asked. "What's happening to them?" He shrugged and looked up at his building.

"I couldn't tell you," he replied. "I haven't stheen David all day. Been insthide histh room sthince the party." I gulped and ran to the back door of Jason's building. Jason sensed my urgency and rushed up behind me. I tore open the back door and quickly ran to the staircase. I had to get up to David's room and see what was happening to him. He ate a lot more than the rest of us, and for all I know… my best friend could be lying dead in his room. I got to David's room and knocked on the door as loud as I could.

"David!" I yelled. "David, are you in there?!" No answer. I knocked again, even louder, but still nothing replied. I pulled out my keychain and found the extra key to David's room. He gave it to me about a year ago. My hands shook as I tried to shove the key into the doorknob. Finally it slid inside and I threw open the door into his apartment. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw inside.


	4. Quarantined

David's room was by far the most confusing thing I had ever seen in my life. It completely mixed up all of my senses. The sight itself was completely grotesque. The room was covered in dripping green vomit, covering every piece of furniture. The fridge was wide open, with no food to been seen inside. Empty boxes and cartons littered the floor and spilt drinks were staining the carpet. However, to a blind man, this room would have been paradise. Despite its horrible appearance, the room smelled fantastic. It smelled like candy, fruity, delicious candy. Jason and I started drooling at the wonderful scent, becoming instantly hungry once again. This room made no sense to us.

Jason kneeled down next to me and sniffed around a little bit. The colliding smells of the room and the cigarette smoke off of Jason were colliding inside my nose. Jason reached down and put his finger into a piece of the green vomit.

"Dude!" I yelled, "that's disgusting." Jason swirled the green slime around on his fingers and then lifted it to his nose. He took a few sniffs of it and then stood up again. He held it out to me and I backed away. "No way, dude. Apparently I'm not as screwed up as you." Jason shook his head and pushed his hand even closer to me.

"Justh sthmell it," he said to me. I sighed and leaned my head forward. I took a few sniffs and was buried in shock. This green vomit was what smelled so good. It smelled completely delicious. Then Jason did something that took me completely off guard. He lifted the disgusting green goo up to his mouth and stuck his finger in. He swirled the green vomit around in his misshapen tongue and swallowed it down. I felt like vomiting myself, and for all I know he would've eaten that, too.

"You're gross!" I yelled. "That was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen!"

"What was?" asked a voice. Jason and I looked into the apartment and both snapped back in horror.

"Most disgusting thing… until this," I corrected. David stood in the back of his living room. His black T-shirt was wrapped tightly around his gluttonous form. His gigantic stomach was hanging out, so large that even his bellybutton was starting to stick out. His skin was starting to turn a purple color, like he had been holding his breath for past few days.

"Dude," started Jason, "what the hell happened to you? You look disthgusthting." David sighed, but then shot a curious look at Jason.

"What's up with your voice, man?" he asked. "Maybe you're the one who should be worried. Not to mention your little skin problem there." I looked at Jason who put up his hand and felt his face. Jason looked at me and revealed that the left side of his face was now covered in zits.

"Holy shit," I said quietly. "How did I not notice that earlier?"

"Becausthe it wasthn't there earlier!" he yelled. "What the hell isth going on?!" This was the worst thing I had ever seen. My friends were breaking down right in front of me. Now I knew why this infection had never been described through the media. Not only was everyone experiencing different things… but they were horrible. Just as I thought this, David leaned over and vomited on his floor. He dropped to his knees and whimpered a little.

"This is the worst sickness I've ever had!" he yelled. "I can't stop barfing. It's terrible. The worst part is, I haven't been eating at all, just the opposite, and I'm still getting fat!"

"That's awful," I said quietly. David nodded and slowly stood up again. He sat on his couch and put his face in his hands, which he could barely do thanks to his massive form.

"Whatever I have," he started, "Tory has the same thing going for her. She's been here with me the whole time. Just like me, she's been throwing up." I looked back and forth, as did Jason.

"Well where isth she?" he asked. David pointed to the bathroom, not wanting to speak anymore. I looked at Jason and then slowly walked to the bathroom door. It was open slightly, letting a thin stream of light leak into the hallway. I creaked the door open and looked inside. I saw Tory, her back to me, leaning over the toilet. She had her hands on her head and was sobbing.

"Tory?" I asked, "are you okay?" Tory was still crying and tried speaking in between her vomits.

"It… it hurts," she said to me in her sobbing. I started to approach her, when she leaned her head back and fell backwards. I stared in horror at Tory's face. Her lips had been burned away, and her teeth were a sickly brown color. Her mouth and parts of her face and chest were stained with blood. The toilet itself was a sight. Parts of its porcelain frame had been melted away, and its bright white color had been smeared with Tory's crimson blood.

"Oh my god!" I yelled. "Tory, what the hell is going on?!" Tory put her hand out to me, begging for help.

"Please!" she yelled. "Please make it stop!" She leaned forward and vomited onto the floor. The bright green vomit splashed across the tiles… but then something happened. I watched in terror as the green puddle began to bubble, and the colors of the tiles started to disappear. Soon the puddle began to shrink in size, and eventually it was gone, as quickly as it appeared. However, it left something behind. The tiles were no longer smooth, orange and brown tiles. They were colorless, and rough. Like someone had poured acid over them. Tory was still sobbing as small trails of vomit and blood dripped from her mouth. I backed away from her and ran back to David and Jason.

"We need to get Tory to a hospital!" I yelled. "Now!" Jason shook his head and sighed.

"I told you," he started. "They wont take anyone anymore. The completely closthed down." I looked back and forth, seeing David shake his head. The room was silent, as the fact that there was nothing we could do hung in the air. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I knew it was time. It was time to tell my parents what was happening to me, and let the world know what was happening to the infected. I put the phone up to my ear… and heard nothing. There was silence. I dialed again and again, but still nothing. I looked at my phone and the words "NO SERVICE" were clearly visible on the screen.

"Do either of you guys have service?" I asked. Jason and David both checked their phones, but neither had anything. No calls… no texts… no internet… nothing.

"That's really weird," David stated. "Normally I have full service in this apartment. That's one of the best things about it." I was quiet for a moment, and then came up with a gruesome thought.

"What if they're doing it?" I asked. "The same thing they did to New York? They're cutting us off from everyone else. Don't you guys get it?" Jason and David looked at each other, in confusion. "They know we're infected! Everyone in Boston is infected! They're cutting us off! We're being quarantined!" I turned to the front door and ripped it open. However, what greeted me was the worst thing I could imagine. There was a man, in a hazmat suit standing in the hallway. In his hands was a fully loaded shotgun.

"Got three more in here!" he yelled. He lifted his shotgun and took aim at us. "Hold still you three! You're now under house arrest. All of you are deemed as infected and must stay inside. We're getting the uninfected out of here!"

"We're not infected you sthupid sthon of a bitch!" yelled Jason. I sighed and rubbed my head. The man looked around and saw the vomit dripping from the ceiling and staining the furniture all around the apartment. He lowered his weapon to take the sight in.

"Oh god," he said quietly. "You three are far into the process." He cocked his shotgun and aimed at David. "By order of the Health Association of America, you've been deemed as a hazardous threat, and therefore must be terminated." I gasped as the man began to pull the trigger. I closed my eyes and prepared for the gunshot and scream that would soon happen. However, I felt something in the ground, something shaking the building. The floors were rumbling and items began falling off of shelves all around me. Was it an earthquake? I opened my eyes and saw the man looked back and forth.

"What the hell isth happening?!" asked Jason in panic. David was gripped the couch, trying not to vomit again. The man in the hazmat suit stared down the hall and aimed his shotgun.

"Tank!" he yelled. "WE'VE GOT A TANK! I NEED BACKUP NOW!!!" I backed away from the door as the man began firing round after round as whatever was running towards him. What the hell was he talking about? What was a tank? To my dismay… I soon found out. A massive figure appeared in the doorway, absorbed bullets like they were mosquitoes. He was around seven feet tall, with huge shoulders, barely fitting in the narrow hall. His muscles were bulging from his body, the skin around them trying to contain them. The giant beast threw its arm forward, slamming the man into the wall. The tank lifted its arms into the air and slammed the man while he was on the ground. The screen in front of the man's face became smeared with blood and his body went limp. The giant creature stood menacingly in the doorway and then turned to us.

"Are you guys okay?" it asked us. We were all still frozen in fear. This giant man forced his way into the room. His arms were so large that they hung down by his ankles. However, one of the most gripping features of this man was his lower jaw. It was completely eroded, showing nothing but bone on his chin. Although, it didn't really matter, considering his pectoral muscles were so large they were almost smothering the lower half of his mouth.

"What the hell are you?" asked David. The man sighed and walked closer to us.

"Guys," he started, "I know it looks bad. But you aren't exactly lookers yourselves right now." I looked at the tank's face again and suddenly realized.

"Richard?"


	5. Special Infected

"Richard," I started, still in shock both from the situation, and from his appearance, "what the hell happened? You… you're giant!" Richard sighed and looked down at himself. It was one of the most incredible things I had even seen in my life. I looked like his shoulder span was longer than my overall height. Not only that, his back muscles had grown so large that they were ripping through his shirt and stuck up higher than the top of his head. His hands were hanging down below his knees due to his grotesquely long arms. His T-shirt was beginning to tear all around his shoulders and chest and his spine was poking indents into the skin on his back. I also couldn't help but notice that his knuckles and fingers were particularly bloody. I tried to shake away the thought of Richard possible killing people.

"I know," he finally said after a few silent moments. "Don't worry, the blood is mine. I've had to walk with my hands sometimes… since my body got so heavy. I can't tell you what happened. All of the sudden my muscles started to hurt… and I mean bad. No amount of drugs were covering it up. If you want my honest opinion… I think drugs may have had something to do with it." Richard sighed and walked more into the room. "I never told anyone this… cause if anyone ever found out I would've been off the football team for sure." He looked back and forth, as if someone hearing this would judge him for it… and now how he looked right now. "I took steroids… for years. It made me play so much better, but I know it's what did this to me!" I turned and looked as Jason who had his hand over his mouth.

"You were right!" I yelled. "Even though we all have the same infection… it's affecting all of us differently, depending on how we lived before it. Since I stayed out of the sun most of my life with hooded sweatshirts like this one, it's turned my skin this grayish color… and it seems to have made me much more agile. Jason…" Jason took his hand off his mouth and looked up at me. His massive tongue pushed against his lips and then squeezed out of his mouth. It hung down below his chin, almost down to the bottom of his neck. He looked me in the eye with his… one eye. One of his eyes had swollen shut as the strange acne on one side of his face started to overwhelm his remaining skin. "Jason," I tried to continue, "you were a chain smoker. That's why your tongue turned all… gross, like that. Probably explains why you constantly reek of smoke now, even when you aren't smoking." I looked around the room, seeing David sitting on his couch looking up at me, his double-chin growing even larger and hanging down near his chest. "As harsh as it is… it looks like David just ate too much." David sighed and put his face in his hands.

"Great!" he yelled. "I'm a superhuman fatass!" He hiccupped after that, causing his belly button to stick even further away from his body. He stared down at his stomach in disgust and depression and then sat back in his couch.

"What about Tory?" asked Jason. I looked past Jason and David towards the bathroom. I shook me head and looked at Richard. Richard used to hang around Tory much more than any of us. He shrugged his giant shoulders and looked at me curiously.

"I don't know," he replied. "What's wrong with Tory?" Just on cue Tory tore herself out of the bathroom and hobbled over to the couch that David was on. She looked up at Richard… and both stumbled back in horror. Tory's face was completely deformed. The sides of her mouth were so deteriorated that her lower jaw had started to drop away from the rest of her skull. She stared in disbelief at Richard and put a hand up to her face. Though her face was very hard to look at, the tears forming in her eyes still made my heart clench. However, despite her grotesque appearance, Jason approached her and grabbed her shoulders. He pulled her into an embrace as he began crying in a high-pitched hacking wail. David was shaking his head and trying to ignore what was happening around him. In fact, we all were. This horrible infection had permeated our lives and changed who we were in a matter of days. There were no signs that any of it would get better, either.

"What the hell is happening to us?" I asked quietly. "This infection… this curse, is destroying us all." Richard walked up behind me, making loud thumps with each step. He stood next to me and sighed a very depressing, and heart-felt sigh. He walked in front of me to the window of David's apartment and put his massive hand on the shade covering it.

"You haven't been outside in the past few hours… have you?" he asked, solemnly. I looked up at him and slowly shook my head. He sighed again and tore the shade away from the window. I slowly approached the window, fearing what was on the other side. What I saw on the other side, would never leave me. It was forever imprinted in my mind as the worst thing I had ever witnessed. Men, women, and children… all were being slaughtered in the street below. Men in hazmat suits were under constant attack as wave after wave of people charged at them. The hazmats were screaming and firing their weapons nonstop as their suits were torn away, and in turn their skin was ripped away. These monstrous people were tearing apart anything inside, and consuming any unfortunate soul that they managed to overwhelm. The street was filled with dead bodies, most of them missing limbs and some bodies crawling across the pavement with no lower body, still trying to get their hands on the fighting individuals. Rivers of blood were gushing down the streets and pouring into the storm drains like rain.

"We're not the only ones being infected," Richard whispered to me. "Everyone… everyone is turning into those. These monsters are everywhere, Henry. They're everyone. All the people we used to know… everyone who went to our school… everyone who lived near us… all of them… are gone." I shook my head at the sight. I stepped back from the window and buried myself in the darkness of David's apartment.

"I don't understand," I muttered under my breath. "Why are we all different… when everyone out there are just these common monsters?"

"Maybe we're just some kind of special infected," said David, jokingly.

"Thisth isth no time for joking around!" Jason shouted. "Thosthe people out there are dying and being sthlaughtered like cattle! There hasth to be sthomething we can do about thisth infection!"

"There's nothing!" I shouted back at him. "Don't you fucking get it?! The same thing is happening here that happened in New York! You know what their fate was?! They were completely shut down! All of them! Cut off from the rest of the world like some kind of fucking monsters! You know why?! Because they are fucking monster! Look outside! The city's falling apart and there's nothing we can do about it!" The room got incredibly silent after that. Everyone was staring at me, with a very solemn and depressing gaze. We all knew it was true. It was all true. "For all we know… we're the only ones who didn't turn into those." Richard closed his eyes and sighed. He was looking down at the floor, when suddenly his gaze turned up again.

"Wait a minute!" he yelled. "Did you hear that man in the hallway before I got to him? Did you hear what he shouted?" I thought back to that moment and looked at everyone else in the room.

"Tank," replied David. "He called you a tank. But that's just because you're so big… right?" Richard shook his head and stomped his way towards the door. He looked down at the body on the ground and turned back to us.

"He wasn't complimenting me," he replied, mockingly. "It was a codeword. A tank must mean large infected people… like me. That can only mean one thing." I snapped my fingers and ran next to Richard.

"There's more of us!" I yelled. "There's got to be more people like us out there! People who have taken steroids, or always wear sweatshirts, or smoke a lot, or overeat!"

"Thanks," David muttered.

"We have to find them!" I yelled in excitement. "Maybe we can help each other. Escape somehow!" I tired to run out the door, but Richard lifted his massive arm and clubbed me back into the room. I flew backwards and did a backflip in the air, landing on all fours on the ground like a cat.

"No!" he yelled. "I'm sorry, Henry, but we're not going anywhere until I find out what happened to Brock! He's my best friend. We're not going anywhere without him." I sighed and then looked at Jason, Tory, and David. I looked back at Richard and nodded.

"Fine," I said quietly, "we'll go get Brock. Then we're coming back here and we're all leaving." Richard nodded and turned for the door. I started to follow him, but stopped in my tracks. I listened closely around me, past the whispering in the room, and past the carnage in the street.

"Henry," David started, "are you okay?" I put up my hand to silence him and listened closer to the air in the apartment.

"David," I whispered, "were you and Tory alone in here?" David started listening and then looked back at me. He started to shake his head, but then slowly stopped and looked into my eyes.

"You know…" he started, "I haven't looked inside the guest room. There's a possibility that Veronica is still in there from the party. I've been too sick to notice… or even really care. Why?" I stepped towards the hallway that led to the guest room. I continued approaching the room and then turned back, facing the others behind me.

"Because…" I began, very quietly, in almost a whisper, "I think I hear someone crying..."


	6. A Witch and a Hunter

I slowly walked down the hallway towards the guest room door. The crying in the air around me was getting louder and louder as I approached. It swallowed the hallway around me in a depressing, and somewhat creepy radiance. I got to the guest room and put my ear up against the door. The crying was definitely coming from inside the room. This crying, however, was different from anything I had ever heard. It begged me to help, calling for company and reassurance. But at the same time, it sounded more like a warning. Like the crying was something of a beacon, like someone actually _wanted _to be alone. I eventually built up all the courage I could, telling myself this was the girl I used to have feelings for. I turned the doorknob and slowly creaked the door open.

The room was pitch black, with dust floating through the air. The blinds had been ripped down over the window to keep out the sunlight. The walls were torn apart, with wallpaper covering the ground and gigantic slashes sinking into the insulation. The crying was still filling the air in a completely overwhelming way. I opened the door the entire way and stared into the room.

"Veronica?" I asked quietly. The light from the hallway that leaked into the room was enough to create an outline of a figure. It was a girl… it was Veronica. She was sitting next to the bed with her back to the doorway. Her head was sunk down below her shoulder, almost buried in her hands. Her crying was overpowering my calls. I reached onto the wall and searched for a light switch.

"Veronica?" I asked again. The crying stopped and Veronica lifted her head up, listening.

"Henry?" she asked. "Is that you?" I found the light switch and was filled with hope, realizing that she knew it was me.

"Yes, Veronica," I replied, "it's me." I flicked on the lights and Veronica instantly shoved her head back downwards. She whipped back and forth violently while screaming in pain.

"TURN IT OFF!" she yelled. "IT HURTS! PLEASE!!! TURN THE LIGHT OFF!!!" I fumbled with my hands in shock while I tried to turn off the light. I watched as Veronica stood up and started wandering around, covering her eyes with her hands. She made her way to the dark closet and buried herself inside. I finally turned off the light and shrouded the room in darkness again. I stepped into the room, in shock of what I just saw. I slowly approached the closet in which Veronica was hiding and opened it.

"Veronica," I whispered. "It's okay. The light's off." I looked inside and saw her sitting on the floor once again. Her hands were crossed across her legs and her head was hanging low. "What are you crying about?" I kneeled down next to her and sat on the floor. "Everything's okay." I reached around and put my arm over her shoulder. She quickly snapped her head up and looked around, like she didn't know I was there. She looked at me with wondrous eyes. However, they weren't the ones I remembered. Her eyes were a crimson red, but the only reason I could tell this was the fact that they had a sort of radiance in the dark. It was like they were glowing, enough to radiate onto her entire body, bathing it in a red radiance in the dark.

"Henry," she said quietly, "it's… it's so hard to hear you." I stared into her eyes and pulled her closer to me. She buried her head in my chest and began crying again. I slowly rocked her back and forth, trying to calm her down.

"It's okay," I repeated quietly. "Everything's going to be okay." She shook her head slowly back and forth and then looked into my eyes.

"Henry," he started, "look at me. Look what's happened to me." I saw her pale white skin and her fiery red eyes, but it wasn't anything worse than what I had seen out in the apartment or on the street. She looked almost… normal. Then, she showed me something that I completely wasn't prepared for. She lifted her hands into the air and held them in front of my face. I stared in horror at the sight before me. Her fingernails had swallowed the tops of her fingers and were sticking almost a foot from her hands. They were a deep red, as were her swollen fingertips. She looked at her nails and then instantly began crying again.

"I'm hideous!" she screamed. "Some kind of monster!" She looked into the dark room and then slowly gazed up to the light on the ceiling. "And the light," she started, "it burns my skin. It blinds me… I can't see anything. Every time I see that blinding light it hurts my vision more and more. I'm losing everything! My sight… my hearing! Soon I'm going to be a vegetable, Henry! I'm going to die!" I shook my head and looked back at the door to the guest room. I slowly slid away from Veronica and stood up next to her.

"I promise, Veronica," I said to her. She looked up at me in wonder, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I promise I will find a way to cure this. I'm going to find out what's going on… and I'm going to save you. I promise." Veronica dropped her head down again and began crying. Her cries filled the air once again as I slowly slipped away and out of the room. I closed the door, burying the room in darkness once again. It stood against the door and leaned my forehead into the frame. I let a few tears leave my eyes and slide down my face. I quickly turned back to the main room and marched up to Richard.

"Henry?" he asked. I turned away from him and charged into the kitchen. I tore open the kitchen drawer and started rummaging around. "Henry, are you okay?" I moved some regular appliances out of the way until I found what I was looking for. A pulled out a roll of silver duct tape and brought it with me into the main room. "Duct tape?" asked Richard. "What the hell is that for?" I sat down on the couch and started the roll. I stuck it to my bicep, over the sweatshirt, and quickly began rolling it tightly around my arm.

"It's going to make me more aerodynamic," I replied. "I have a feeling that if we go outside, we're going to have to deal with some of those hazmat guys in the street. I'm convinced the monsters out there aren't going to attack us." I moved down to my forearms and began wrapping those as well, trying hard not to let any air into the sweatshirt.

"And what's your theory on that one, Darwin?" asked David, mockingly. I looked up at him and gave a small smile. I moved down to my thighs and started wrapping them, just as tight.

"As far as I'm concerned," I started, "we're monsters, too." Everyone looked at each other as I started to wrap my calves. "Also, as far as I'm concerned, those guys out there in the hazmat suits aren't the good guys anymore. One of them already tried to kill us." I threw the empty role of tape to the side and stood up. I cracked my neck and turned to Richard. "If they're going to try and kill us, I say we fight back!" Richard looked at me and sighed.

"You're one crazy son-of-a-bitch," he said to me. Then he lifted his massive arm and took a hold of his ripped up shirt. He tore it off his body and threw it to the ground. He smiled at me and turned to the door. "Let's go get Brock." I nodded and charged out of the door. Then I quickly turned back to David, Tory, and Jason.

"You guys stay here," I ordered, "me and Richard will be back soon. Then we're getting out of here."

"Oh yeah, great!" yelled David, mockingly, as Richard and I ran down the hall. "If anyone comes in after us, me and Tory will just throw up on them! If we're lucky maybe Jason will give them a good licking!!!"

Richard and I burst outside and stepped onto the street. Instantly we slid around the building and into the alleyway, out of sight. We could hear the fighting just down the street as the men in hazmat suits unloaded on the zombies all around them.

"Well," started Richard, "any ideas?" I sighed and looked around. I looked up at the rooftops and then down at my legs. I thought for a moment and then turned to the gutter on the side of the building. I tightly gripped it and quickly began scurrying up the gutter. I was sticking to it like Spider-man as I started to make my way towards the roof. Richard turned and saw me halfway up the building. "Hey!" he yelled. "What the hell are you doing?!" I continued climbing and then let go with one hand so I could turn and look down at him.

"Using what the infection gave me!" I yelled back. "If I can jump higher and act faster… I'm using it against them!" I turned back to the wall and started climbed again. I threw my hand onto the roof and pulled myself up. I got onto the roof and stood up. The sight was incredible. Block after block was visible, and Richard looked like an ant… well… a grotesquely large ant… but an ant none the less.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?!" he yelled up to me. I looked down the street at the warzone and then back to Richard.

"Use what the infection gave you!" I replied. Richard looked down at his body and I ran away from the edge of the roof. I looked at the next rooftop down the street and closely examined the gap in between them. I took a deep breath and took off for the edge of the building. If this infection was going to kill me anyways… might as well go for it. I got to the edge of the roof and jumped with all my might… which was possibly too much power. I cleared the gap between the rooftops… and almost the roof itself. I managed to land on the gravel covering rooftop and stop my momentum before I slipped into the next gap. The fight was now right below me on the street. I slowly approached the edge of the roof and looked down on everyone fighting on the pavement. I crouched down and put my hands onto the ground to keep my balance. I looked at all the men in hazmat suits, closely examining each one. Then I saw him… a hazmat with no weapon. He was running away from his team, going for cover… he was a lone wolf.

I moved my feet backwards a little bit and gripped the side of the building. I stared at my target and bared my teeth. Everything in my body was telling me not to do this, but I knew I had to… and I knew I could. Suddenly, everything around me turned a shade of yellow, and time itself slowed down. I could see the bullets traveling through the air and sinking into the zombies. Bodies were slowly falling to the ground, and each step of the man running away rang out like a drum. Then, without thinking, I pushed off my back foot and took off into the air. I jumped upwards, launching myself even higher into the sky. I screamed as loud as I possibly could, causing everyone to look up at me. I didn't mean to scream… but the adrenaline rushing through me forced it out of me. I reached the peak of my pounce and started to curve downwards. The man was still running, but somehow I had compensated for that on my jump… like I knew exactly where he was going to be. I was getting closer and closer to the ground, and suddenly, the man was right under me. The next thing I felt was my hands hitting his shoulders and me knees on his back.

"What the…" started the man as I hit him, "oh my god! HUNTER!!!" The man was overpowered and lost his balance. He fell, face-first, onto the pavement. His face slammed into the ground, sending blood spraying across the street. I felt his ribs hit next and split on contact. The final thing I felt was the man's spine snapping between my knees. Everything turned back to normal color and speed and I looked down at the body underneath me. I stared in disbelief at what I had just done. I just killed a man… a man sent to try and contain this infection. More or less… I just killed a good guy. I was still kneeling on the men when another man ran up behind me and checked me with his shoulder. I stumbled off of the body and fell onto my backside. The man lifted a shotgun and aimed it at me.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled. The man cocked the gun and aimed it at my forehead. I gasped as the man started to squeeze the trigger. Suddenly, he lowered his weapon and stared at something behind me. He dropped the gun to the ground and started to back away. He turned to run, but just as his did something came flying over my head. It was a giant rock… a slab of pure tarmac. It flew from behind me and slammed into the man, sending him flying backwards. His limp body tumbled across the pavement and stopped about twenty feet away from me. I slowly looked behind me and saw Richard walk up next to me. He was walking on all fours and his tongue was now hanging out of his mouth. Luckily it still looked normal, unlike Jason. He stopped by my side and grabbed the back of my sweatshirt. He lifted me up onto my feet and then slammed his fists into the ground. His fingers slid through the cracks in the pavement and gripped the rock. He pulled another giant rock off the ground and hoisted it above his head.

"Let's go!" he yelled. He threw it into the crowd, taking down a few men in hazmat suits, along with quite a few zombies. He charged towards the group, pounding his fists into the ground along the way. I looked down at my hands, noticing my fingernails had started to become sharp and pointed. I clenched my fist and looked up at the crowd, smiling a little.

"Hunter…" I muttered, "… I like it."


	7. The Survivor

"I think they're starting to fall back," Richard called out to me from inside the crowd. I stood up off of the body of another fallen opponent. I stared down the street, seeing the men in hazmat suits get further and further away. I nodded and took some deep breaths, calming myself down. My vision returned to normal, losing its yellowish tint, and time sped up again. This was the first moment I was given a chance to actually look around. To take in the ghastly sight of the men and women wandering the street around me. It was like they were just empty shells, some with missing limbs and bullet wounds taking away most of their heads. Whenever someone who was uninfected came near them, it was like an animalistic instinct would take them over, and they'd charge towards the victim, without any thought at all. However, as Richard and I walked among them, they simply continued limping on their paths to nowhere. It was like… like we were one of them.

"What's happened to this place?" I asked quietly. "Only a few days ago this entire neighborhood was our home. Everyone was completely normal… not even a cough." I looked up at the sky and sighed. "And what about my family… my parents? I'll… I'll probably never get to see them again." Tears started to well in my eyes as the realization of our situation finally came into view. "We're locked away now… like we never even existed." Suddenly, the silence was broken by a loud gunshot, and Richard fell forward, as if he was shoved from behind. I turned around and saw a man cocking his shotgun for another round.

"Teach you to mess with my neighborhood you sons-of-bitches!" he yelled. He aimed the shotgun and pulled the trigger. A loud bang ensued, followed by a stream of bullets whizzing pass my head. I closed my eyes and braced for the impact… but felt nothing. Numbness… perhaps? I opened my eyes and saw the man struggling against something. He was shaking his body back and forth, desperately trying to get away from something. "For the love of… get this God damned thing off of me!" I looked closer and saw that there was something on the mans back, seemingly sitting on his shoulders. One of the creatures giant hands was slapped over the mans face, while the other was pulling him around the road. Eventually the other zombies around us took notice of the screaming man and instantly sprang into action. Before we knew it, the man was completely overwhelmed and was nothing more than the pinpoint center of a crowd of infected. The tiny creature that was on the man walked out of the mob and hobbled over to us.

"Hope you guys are okay," it said in a high-pitched voice. The creature was only about two or three feet tall, and its back was horribly hunched. It skipped around when it walked and every now and again would let out a small chuckle, almost like a hiccup.

"What the hell are you," Richard asked. The small creature backed away from Richard and got ready to flee.

"Please, don't hurt me," it begged. "I was just trying to help." Richard walked a little closer and then stopped a few feet from the small creature. Then, his eyes shot wide open as he stared at the tiny zombie.

"It… it can't be," he said quietly. "Br… Brock? Is that you?" The small zombie's eyes opened just as wide as Richard's and his mouth dropped open.

"Richard?!" he yelled. "What in God's name?!" He turned to me and gave me a once over with his eyes. "Henry? What the hell is going on? I thought I was the only freak!" He looked back at the crowd of zombies as they started to move away from the now destroyed corpse of the man with the shotgun. "Honestly… it's not like you guys are any worse than me. I mean look at me… I'm a fucking hobbit." He looked down at his enormous hands and sighed. "They all call me… well… it's probably because I jump on people's backs."

"What do they call you?" I asked. "They call me a hunter."

"And they call me a tank," Richard chimed in. He sighed again and then approached Richard. He lunged off the ground and landed on Richard's enormous shoulders.

"They call me a jockey," he replied. "You know… like the guys who ride horses." Brock took a seat on Richard's left shoulder and hung his head low. "Where are the others?"

"Back at David's," I replied. "We left to find you, and now that we have you, we're heading back." Brock nodded and we prepared to head back. I looked at Richard and saw him rubbing his massive left arm. It was like he was in pain. Brock noticed my curiosity and stared at Richard's arm as well.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Richard stopped rubbing his arm and put his hand back on the pavement.

"Yeah," he replied. "Arm's feeling a little sore. Might have taken a bullet or something. I'll be fine." I was about to begin questioning Richard, when a loud sound rang out over the building tops. It was a high-pitched, fear-filled scream. The kind of blood-curdling shriek that you could only hear right before death. I stared in the direction it originated and tried finding the source. I looked down alleys and between buildings, but the person screaming was too far for me to see. My vision started to change as everything around me got a yellowish tint.

"Did you hear that?" I asked the other two. They looked at each other and Richard shrugged, lifted Brock up in the process.

"I didn't hear anything," Brock replied. Almost on cue, the scream rang out again over the rooftops, followed by loud gunshots.

"You didn't hear that?!" I asked in a panic. Richard and Brock simply looked at each other in confusion and shrugged. I turned towards the sound and got down on all fours. "I've got to do something." I leapt off the pavement, and into a wall in the nearest alley. I connected with it and sprang off of it, landing on the roof of the adjacent building. I charged across the rooftop and jumped to the next roof in line. I kept leaping from rooftop to rooftop, each time getting closer to the screams and gunshots ringing off in the distance. I was simply running off of instinct now. Eventually the scream came from directly below me. I stopped on the nearest roof and stared down into the street in front of me. I saw exactly what I had been fearing.

"Get the hell away from me!" screamed the girl in the alley. She had brown hair tied back in a ponytail and sported a white t-shirt and jeans. She was holding two pistols and firing wildly into a crowd of zombies relentlessly charging towards her. Suddenly something caught my eye, on the opposite side of the street. On top of the building across from me was a dark black figure. He was standing on the edge of the roof staring down at the girl in the street. I saw him squat down so he was on all fours and heard a deep growl echo over the rooftops. I gasped and everything around me slowed down.

"A hunter," I whispered to myself. The hunter pounced off of the building and rocketed down towards the girl. She turned and looked up at the figure as he plummeted towards her. I immediately took off from my perch and aimed for the falling figure. I got closer and closer, until he was only inches from the girl. Right before contact I slammed into him, knocking him to the side and sending him careening into the brick wall of the building across the street. The bricks cracked on his impact, sending shards of the rock in all directions. He slid onto the ground and slowly got to his feet. The hunter let out a horrible shriek and charged towards me. He threw his claws into my arm and tore away the part of my sleeve between my shoulder and the duct tape on my bicep, along with several pieces of flesh. I stepped back and grabbed my arm in pain.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I asked viciously. "Stop this! She can still save herself! Don't you see?! She's not infected!" The hunter lifted his head slightly, bringing the bottom half of his face into view. What I saw was completely horrific. His teeth were razor sharp and bared, with blood dripping through his lips and down his chin. He lunged at me again, but I was nearly fast enough to stop him. He tackled me to the ground and lifted his hands to strike. However, right before he started swinging, he was knocked off of me. I watched in amazement as the girl in the street charged up to me and rammed him off of me. The hunter staggered to the side and slowly regained his balance.

"Get off of him!" she yelled. She lifted her pistols and fired round after round at the hunter. Several bullets sunk into his arms and chest, until one connected with his forehead and made him fall backwards. His limp body crashed onto the ground and laid completely still. I was breathing deeply and still in shock. The girl was still holding her pistols straight in front of her and aimed them at the dead body. I slowly got to my feet and brushed some dirt off of my sweatshirt.

"Hey thanks," I said her. "You sure saved my ass." Suddenly she turned around and pointed the guns directly at my head. I stepped back in shock and was prepared to run.

"Stay the hell away from me!" she yelled. "You're one of them! One of those hunters that jump around these rooftops! You've already killed two of my friends! What more do you want?!" I put up my arms and tried desperately to calm her down.

"No," I begged, "I'm not like that. I don't know what happened to that guy… but I swear I'm not like that… and I never will be!" The girl was still aiming the pistols at me as her hands started to shake. Slowly she lowered the pistols and sighed.

"I don't what the hell happened to you," she started, "but something is obviously different about you. None of the other infected I've seen can talk, or seem to feel anything." I nodded and started to approach her.

"Believe me, I've noticed," I replied. "Me and my friends have the same mental state as we did before we were infected. Something is different about us." The girl looked away and stared at the dead body on the ground.

"Then we're similar," he said quietly. "The group of people I was with were all immune to this infection. We've be around the infected, scratched by the infected, and even bitten by the infected. None of us ever started to change though. We think that we might have had the cure somewhere in our blood." I sighed and looked back towards where my friends were.

"I doubt there's a cure," I said solemnly. "I don't think there's any hope for the people I've seen roaming the streets." I thought for a moment before looking back at the girl. "However… there's still hope for you. If we can get you out of here, you might still have a chance." The girl looked at the ground and closed her eyes. I could see some tears start to well in her eyes and leak down her cheeks.

"They were my best friends," she said quietly. "All of them. My boyfriend… my childhood friends… my neighbors… they're all gone. They're all dead. The hunters… the smokers… the god damned tanks!" I watched her begin to break down right in front of me, nothing I could do.

"Look," I started, "I can get you out of here. You just have to trust me." She looked up and nodded. I held out my hand and she slowly looked up and took it. "Unfortunately, you may have to see some of those infected again… but believe me they're all okay." The girl pulled her hand away and thought for a moment. She sighed and looked away from me.

"Fine," she began, "but I can't bare to see a certain kind of zombie again."

"Which one?" I asked.

"It was the most horrifying thing I've ever seen."

"Which one?"

"I watched it tear two of my friends apart… completely rip them to shreds right in front of me. They're blood was everywhere, painting the walls and ceilings."

"Which one?!"

"My uncle told me… he warned me. He always told me to… stay away from the ones… the ones who cry." My heart dropped, and sweat started to leak from my hair… or what was left of it. The ones who cry. That could only be one person… Veronica. I gulped and looked down at the ground.

"Listen," I started, "my friend… my girlfriend, has turned into one of those ones who cry."

"A witch?!?" the girl asked in horror. I looked up at her and nodded solemnly.

"I promised her I would find out all I could. I would find out how to save her… save all of us. There may not be a chance for all of these people, walking around like mindless zombies… but I think my friends and I still have a chance." The girl wiped her tears away and thought for a moment. She tucked her pistols into the holsters on her belt and took my hand once again.

"Okay," she agreed. "I trust you… I mean… you're all I have left." I smiled and pulled her closer to me.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I'm going to see my uncle," she replied. "He's hold up in Fairfield, Pennsylvania. He's still uninfected, and has been keeping me updated in the infection ever since it hit New York. I've been trying to tell people about it for at least a week… but no one listened to me." I nodded and looked up into the sky. My vision got a yellowish tint and everything started to slow down.

"You might want to hold on tight," I said to her. She nodded and wrapped her arms around me. "By the way… my name's Henry." She smiled and looked up into the sky as well.

"Zoey," she replied, "my name's Zoey." I crouched down and then took off into the sky. I touched my feet onto the edge of one of the buildings and leapt towards the next. Zoey was on my back, screaming and laughing the whole way.

"Having fun?" I asked, managing to find happiness in the whole situation… something I really needed. She started laughing again as the wind brushed her hair backwards.

"I'm actually going to make it!" she screamed. "I'm on m way! I'm going to make it! Just like I promised!" I smiled and continued jumping across the rooftops. "I'M COMING UNCLE BILL!"


	8. The Ugly Truth

The wind was brushing against my skin and pushing the hood backwards off of my head. I was carrying Zoey on my back with ease as I leapt from rooftop to rooftop. Although it took a good deal of focus, I was trying to make it look effortless. I may have been changed, but that didn't mean I couldn't show off for the ladies anymore. I landed on a rooftop adjacent to David's apartment and put Zoey down. I walked to the edge of the building and stared down at the apartment complex.

"Well, this is it," I called out. "This is where my friends are hiding out." Zoey stood next to me and nervously stared down at the front door.

"This is where that witch is?" she asked. "She's in there?" I nodded and reached out to take Zoey's hand. She looked at my hand and stepped away, refusing to come with me.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. She turned away from me and held her arm, like she was ashamed. She shook her head and little and took a deep breath.

"I just… I just can't go in there," she replied. "I can't bear to see another one of those… those monsters! I couldn't stand seeing anymore bloodshed, like I saw before." I stared at Zoey for a moment and then looked back down at the apartments.

"I'll go alone," I stated. "I'll get the others, and then we'll all move out together. We'll find someone, someone who can cure us. We're half-immune… so there must be something in our blood that can cure this disease." Zoey turned around and looked at me, solemnly. She slowly nodded and I crouched down on the ledge. I looked at each window until my sights lined up with the third window from the left side of the building, two stories up. I leapt from my perch and dove towards the window. The wind whipped against my face as I passed through the small window. I rolled across the hardwood floor inside the apartment, accidently rolling a little too far. I crashed into the coffee table and knocked it over, along with several objects sitting on top of it. I was lying on my shoulders with my legs up in the air and took a quick looked around the room.

"Hello!?" I called out. "Anyone here!?" I slowly stood up and shook off the crashed. I brushed a little dust and dried up vomit off of my sweatshirt and wandered around the apartment. "David! Jason! Richard!?" I looked into the bathroom, which was still stained with acid and blood, but without anyone inside. "Tory!? Brock!?" I continued searching the empty rooms around the apartment, finding no one. I eventually reached the guest room at the end of the hall and creaked the door open. "Veronica?" Once again, no one was in sight. I went back to the front door and looked out into the hallway, lined with identical doors to other rooms. I stepped over the body of the hazmat man Richard had finished off earlier. I continued down the hall towards the exit, however, as I got closer, more and more bodies started piling up. Some were zombies, but most of them were people, some wearing hazmat suits, and some like regular citizens. They each had huge gashes in the skin and giant chunks of flesh and meat torn away. I started moving faster, and faster, and faster. I charged towards the exit, almost tripping over some of the bodies on my way to the door. Blood was splattered over the walls and dripping from the ceiling all around me. Each body I passed over I gave a quick glance to make sure it wasn't one of my friends. Finally I reached the door and threw it open, exploding out onto the street in front of me.

I fell onto the pavement, straight on my face. My nails were digging into the asphalt, so hard I could hear some of them begin to crack off my fingers. I gasped for the fresh air around me, making it replaced the musty, rotting flesh smell of the hallway. I rolled onto my back and dragged my hands to my face. I dug my nails into my face and begun screaming. I just started screaming… things I couldn't even understand myself. I wasn't in control at this point, the sights, then smells, the reality… it all just hit me at once. I threw my head forward and back, slamming the back of my skull into the pavement while I continued to scream.

"Henry!" yelled a voice. I looked through the space between my fingers and saw Zoey making her way down the fire escape on the building I left her. She was halfway down the stairs, but never took her eyes off of me. "Henry! What's going on?!" She jumped onto the ground, skipping the last ladder and charged towards me. She got on her knees right by my side and put her hands on the sides of my face.

"They're gone!" I screamed. "They're all gone! All my friends! There were so many! So many bodies piled up in that building!!! Oh God!!! I don't know what happened! I should've been there! I could've been there!" Zoey pulled my towards her and held me in an embrace.

"It's okay, Henry," she said into my ear. "It's going to be okay. They might still be out there somewhere, Henry. I'm sure they can handle themselves for a while." I started crying into her shoulder, not knowing what else to do.

"Please, let them be okay!" I begged. I didn't know who I was talking to. I knew Zoey couldn't do anything, and that God never seemed to be listening to me before. I just needed someone. "I can't do this! I just can't!" Zoey patted my back, but then stopped and let out a loud gasp. She shoved me away, letting me fall onto the ground.

"Henry!" she screamed. "Look out! Behind you!" I looked up and saw the horrifying sight of zombie after zombie charging down the street at us. Each one rampaged towards us will evil intent. Their eyes were pitch white and blood was leaking from their mouths. Some had severed arms and giant chunks of flesh and meat torn away from their bodies. I backed up and prepared for the worst. My arms were shaking and I couldn't make it to my feet. The zombies barreled towards me… and simply passed right by. I stared in amazement as the passing zombies simply ignored me and continued on their way. However, calmness turned to horror when I saw the zombies making a straight line towards Zoey. She pulled out her pistols and fired round after round into the beasts, knocking each one backwards. SO many thoughts rushed through my head… but the need to protect the one person I had left overcame them all.

"Hold on!" I yelled. I leapt to my feet and charged into the mob. I shoved zombies out of the way and clawed at them with my nails. Zombies were all around, blocking my vision completely. The horde swallowed me and I found it hard to find Zoey. Only the sound of the gunshots ringing off led me to her. I pushed another zombie out of the way, only to see its head erupt in a cascade of blood and brains as Zoey pulled off a perfect shot. I finally reached Zoey and threw her over my shoulder. I looked up into the sky as everything got a yellowish tint and time itself seemed to slow down. I took off, jumped onto the railing of a fire escape and balancing there, almost effortlessly. I took off again and landed on the roof of a building across the street. The zombies ran towards the building, clogging the doorways and smashing through the windows, but I knew they wouldn't make it to the top.

"Henry," Zoey said quietly as I put her down. "You… you saved me." I smiled a little and rubbed the back of my head.

"Well," I started, "you're pretty much all I have left." Zoey smiled and opened her arms. I smiled and went to give her a hug, when a large weight was thrown against my body, knocking me to the ground.

"Get down!" yelled a voice. The second person tackled me onto the rooftop and turned towards Zoey. "Get away from him! I wont let you hurt him!"

"Jason?!" I called out in shock. "You alive?!"

"You monstersth wont get your handsth on my friendsth!" he yelled viciously. His tongue was even larger now, and was hanging from his mouth, almost reaching his chest. The horrific bulge under his jaw was pulsing back and forth in a truly disgusting manner.

"Jason!" I yelled. "She's my friend! She's not infected! She might be able to help make a cure for us!" Jason turned and shot me a look, a look I've never seen him give anyone before.

"Friend?!!!!!" he asked viciously. "You can't be friends with this monster! Don't you see, Henry?! She's hideous! She's UGLY!!!" Jason looked back at Zoey and reared his head back. Suddenly the bulge under his jaw shrunk and his tongue fired from his mouth like a missile. I watched, in pure awe, as the tongue flew at Zoey and wrapped around her neck. Jason pulled his head back, pulling her to the ground as the tongue got tighter around her neck.

"Jason, stop!" I yelled. I jumped up and ran at him. I started shaking him around and pulled on his shoulders. "Let her go, Jason!" Jason suddenly glared at me with a viscous red eye, while the other was buried under the boils on his skin. He let out an earsplitting scream the pierced the air around me. I looked at Zoey who was grabbing her neck in anguish. Her limbs were started to go limp and she was beginning to lose consciousness. Without thinking I ran for the tongue and slashed at it with my claws, severing it down the middle. The tongue split in half, sending blood flying around in all directions. Zoey tore the remaining piece away from her neck and pulled out her pistol. I watched in slow motion as she lifted it and aimed it at Jason.

"Zoey," I started quietly. She aimed for Jason's forehead and started to squeeze the trigger. "Zoey… NO!" I jumped forward as the bullet left the barrel with a shattering bang. The bullet sailed through the air and tore a hole straight through my forearm. However, it still wasn't enough to stop it and it continued on its original path. I watched the bullet travel straight towards Jason and bury itself in his head. Jason's head cocked backwards and he erupted into an explosion of green smoke. His limp body fell backwards and crashed onto the rooftop. "NOOO!!!" I jumped to my feet and ran towards Jason's body. I coughed from the smoke filling the air and tried everything I could to wake him up.

"Henry," Zoey said quietly.

"You monster!!!" I yelled. "He was my best friend!!! You killed my best friend!!! JASON!!!" I curled in a ball over the body and cried onto my fallen friend's chest. Zoey slowly got to her feet and stood at the other end of the rooftop. She put away her pistol and sighed.

"Henry, I'm sorry," she said, solemnly. "You don't understand…"

"No you don't understand!!!" I screamed back. "He was all I had! He was my friend! Since we were kids!!! We could have saved him!!!" Zoey walked up to me and kneeled down beside me. She put her hands on my shoulders and pulled me close to her.

"There's nothing we could have done for him," she replied. "It was too late for him, Henry. The infection had taken him over completely." I was still crying and whimpering, trying to console myself.

"My best friend!" I cried out, in pure agony. "No! Jason!" All Zoey could do was hold me, and I couldn't find it in me to push her away. It wasn't her fault… and I knew it. I tried my best to tell myself it was too late for Jason… but I just couldn't. He was my best friend, he was with me since we were toddlers… and I knew I could never replace him.

"Henry," Zoey started, "we need to get moving. The other zombies will close in on us in no time with all this noise. I was still crying, but managed to nod my head, letting her know I understood. "C'mon, I know a guy nearby who can patch you up. Me and him have a private phoneline, so it hasn't been shut down. I know he is okay and locked away in his lab. He has the immunity gene… just like me. Also… we kind of… used to be dating. But… he's a great guy. Dr. Sharpton. He'll have you good as new… you know… before you lose too much blood." I nodded and stood up, away from Jason and walked out of the pillar of smoke over him. I picked up Zoey with my one good arm, not even feeling the pain from the bullet. There was too much pain in my heart. As I jumped off the rooftop and heading in the direction Zoey gave me… I could only hope that the rest of my friends would be half-immune like me… and not end up like Jason.

[author's note]

Hey everyone, Jeremy here.

Just wanted to let you all know my website is up and running. There are still a few bugs in it… but I'm new to the whole website programming thing, so cut me some slack. The main reason I made the website is not for Half-Immune and Story of Aidan Wolfe (cause you get those here if you wanted.) The real reason is the first story I ever wrote "Go Nitro." It's my favorite of my stories and will have a lot of cool drawings with it once I decide to put them on the site. So check out www(dot)JadedFiction(dot)com and check out Go Nitro. The first few chapters are up and I'll put a new one up every Monday of every week. So read and enjoy. Feel free to comment about the story on forums that I will have on fanfiction.

Thanks for reading and please keep reviewing… I love hearing from you guys.


	9. If I Died

"I have to rest," I said loudly as I landed on the concrete ground. I quickly put Zoey on her feet and dropped to my knees. I grabbed my arm and ground my teeth together. The pain from the bullet wound to my arm was really getting to me now. A bullet through the arm wasn't something that was just going to go away. I squeezed my forearm, biting through the pain and hoping the pressure would take away some of my agony. I looked down and saw the blood soaking through my sweatshirt and sliding through my fingers. I lifted my hand and took a long hard look at it. The reality of the situation had finally set in, and I had finally accepted what was happening to me. I stared at the blood stained palm in front of me, the fingernails sharp like talons, and the skin torn from the impact of when I land. It was truly the hand of a hunter. I looked into the sky and took a deep breath. Zoey approached me with her T-shirt, which she removed from under her pink sweatshirt. She tightly wrapped it around my arm, but I was in too much thought to even notice.

"Are you okay?" she asked me, quietly as she continued to wrap my arm. I was still staring at the clouds as they rolled by in the blue sky above me, picking out shapes and colors. Veronica and I used to watch the clouds together, back when we were normal… but that was something I knew was never coming back.

"Zoey," I started, solemnly, "have you ever been afraid?" Zoey finished tying my arm and stared at me, inquisitively. She was one knee next to me, with her right arm resting across her knee.

"Afraid of what?" she asked. "Zombies? Hell no. They just sometimes get the upper hand on me is all." She put on a small smile, but I didn't return it. I kept my eyes on the sky and shook my head slightly.

"No," I said back to her. "I meant have you ever been afraid that if you die… that… when you die… people won't remember you the way you want? You'll be just another footnote in the pages of history that no one bothers to give a second glance… or worse… someone they intentionally avoid giving a second glance." Zoey just stared at me. I didn't expect her to have an answer to that question. I sighed and dropped my head, closing my eyes in the process. "What I'm feeling now, Zoey, is much worse than that. You need to understand. Can you imagine what my death will be like? What everyone in the world will say when I'm gone? I mean look at me." I opened my eyes and stared at my gruesome hands once again. "I'm not even a person anymore. I'm a zombie. I'm a hunter." Zoey never took her eyes off of me, and even though I never looked back, I could feel her stare pressing against my face. Zoey was kneeling next to me, as I was on my knees in the middle of an alleyway, clueless to where we were going. At this point I didn't care where we were going.

"Henry," she started, "let me tell you what I would say about you. I would talk about the boy who saved my life more than once. The boy who is risking everything to try and save his friends, and who would fight hordes of zombies to get me back to my loved ones. Henry, you're not a hunter… and you're not a zombie. You're still a human. You're still a person… and you're special, Henry. There's something in your blood that is keeping you from being a hunter. Someone is watching over you, Henry." I closed my eyes again and slowly shook my head. "Did you ever stop and think that you didn't completely change… for a reason?" I dropped my hands and slowly turned my head to look at Zoey. I had tears welling in my eyes, which slowly started to drip down my cheeks. I didn't know why I was crying, but I know that I needed to.

"But why, Zoey?" I asked through my sobbing. "Why me? Why didn't my friends stay like I did? Why did Jason have to die? Why am I the one that had to be like this?" Zoey shook her head and reached towards me. She put her hand on the side of my face and stared into my eyes.

"I don't think you changed," she started, "because I think you're the one who's going to cure this infection." I stared back at her, not knowing what to say, before dropping my head down and crying uncontrollably. Zoey pulled me closer to her and held me in an embrace as I cried on her shoulder. I couldn't feel the pain in my arm anymore, I couldn't feel the hard concrete scratching against my knees, I just couldn't feel.

After another ten minutes I managed to swallow the lump in my throat and start to regain control. I pulled away from Zoey and looked into her eyes. Her sweatshirt was stained from my tears, and her eyes were filled with sympathy. I wiped the tears off my face and slowly got to my feet. Zoey stood up as well and put her hand on my arm.

"Now come on," she said to me. "We're almost to Sharpton's place. You need your rest… so we should probably walk." Zoey took her hand off my arm and started to walk away. I watched her pull out her pistol and make sure it was prepped for battle. I looked at my hand one last time before slowly staring up at Zoey.

"Zoey," I called out. She turned to look at me as she slid a new clip into the bottom of her M9. I stared into her eyes and let one last tear roll down my cheek. "I need you to promise me something." Zoey seemed a little nervous when I spoke these words, understandably.

"What?" she asked.

"Just say you promise," I replied.

"Promise what!?!" she asked again.

"I won't tell you and I won't go with you unless you say you promise!" I yelled at her. She stared at me with wide eyes, not expecting my sudden outburst. Everything around us was extremely silent right then. Zoey took some deep breaths before closing her eyes and looking away from me. Breaking the eye contact lowered the tension… but not by much.

"Fine," she replied, after a few moments. "I promise." I sighed and started to walk towards her. I put my hand on her shoulder and nodded to her, before continuing past her towards the street.

"Henry," she called. "What did I just promise to do?" I continued walked until I was about ten feet away from her, before turned my head slightly to look at her with one eye.

"If I ever become anything less than the person I am now," I started, "I want you to do what you did to Jason." Zoey's mouth dropped and she went completely silent. "If I ever become a hunter… I want you to kill me." I turned my head forwards again and walked out into the street. It took a few minutes before the sound of Zoey following me actually hit my ears… but it felt like hours.


	10. The Incredible Dr Sharpton

"Sharpton!" Zoey screamed as she pounded on the door of another generic building lining the streets around us. The door Zoey was beating on was a deep blue with the words Dr. Sharpton written across the glass. "I know you're still in there! Open up!" I sighed and walked next to the doorway, leaning against the brick wall of the building.

"So you used to date this guy?" I asked. Zoey looked at me and then started ringing the doorbell furiously.

"Yeah," she replied between rings and knocks. "About a year ago."

"And he's a doctor!" I yelled out. "You go girl." I snapped my fingers in the air a few times before refolding my arms.

"Yeah, yeah," she said back to my sarcastic comments. "I know, big, rich, and glamorous. I just saw after a while that he wasn't as… you know… rough and tumble as I am." I laughed a little and looked around the street, making sure no zombies were in sight.

"Still," I started, "he was rich and glamorous. I didn't say 'big,' but that's really your area to judge, not mine."

"Shut up and see if you can help me break down this door," she snapped, while continuing to tug at the doorknob. I sighed and pushed myself off the wall. Maybe breaking something would help improve my mood. However, just as I was about to assist, a loud series of clicks came from the other side of the door as lock after lock was opened. The door finally tore open, revealing a man wearing a blue doctor's suit, gloves, goggles, and a medical mask.

"Zoey!" he screamed behind the mask. "Oh mygod! It's so good to see you're okay!" Sharpton ran out of the building and wrapped his arms around Zoey. I was out of view since I was leaning on the building, but I decided not to interfere. Zoey could introduce me first… rather than surprising him. Zoey pushed him away and fixed her hair.

"Listen," I need some medical assistance. Sharpton quickly gave Zoey a once over and folded his arms.

"You don't look hurt," he stated. "I don't see any injuries, besides a few cuts and scrapes. Is it a bone thing? Or like a mental problem?... or do you just need a little help from the _love _doctor."

"Pfft! Are you serious?!" I called out. I shouldn't have butted in, but that was just too good. Sharpton quickly spun in my direction and threw his arms into the air.

"What the fuck!?" he yelled. He pointed his finger at me and put his other hand on the medical cap covering his head. "A hunter!!! Holy shit! Run Zoey! Get inside! I won't let you become zombie food!!!" Zoey cocked her hip to the side and let out a loud sigh.

"Okay, first of all," she started, "we're not dating anymore. So stop acting like you're the big man and there's something going on between us. Secondly, that's not a hunter. This is Henry Crane. He caught the infection, but for some reason hasn't completely transformed. I think he might be half-immune to this infection." Dr. Sharpton quickly ran up to me and started to look at my entire body… making me pretty uncomfortable. He grabbed my wrist and looked at my hand, examined the sharp talons coming out of my fingers.

"Incredible!" he yelled. He grabbed my hood and tore it off, examining my face. I pushed him away and pulled the hood back on.

"Lay off, will you?" I called out. Sharpton shook his head and stepped back.

"I'm sorry… it's just… I've never seen anything like you before," he said, stuttering. "Zoey. Do you realize that this boy may hold the key to curing the infection?!"

"Yes!" she yelled. "That's why we need your help. Henry's been shot in the arm and we need…"

"He needs to get his ass in that house now!" Sharpton screamed. "We can't let him get injured! We need to get him the hell out of here!" Sharpton grabbed my arm and pulled me into the house. After I was inside, Sharpton slammed the door shut and locked every single lock, about six. He then turned around and escorted me down the hallway and up a flight of stairs. When we reached the second floor he directed me into a cozy room that appeared to be his living room. He ran to a couch in front of me and pulled a cushion off, giving me space to lie down.

"Ummm, thanks," I said, timidly. I slowly got to the couch and lied down, as Sharpton left the room to go get supplies. Zoey sat in a chair next to the couch and put her chin in her hands.

"So," I started, "he seems nice." Zoey smiled and sat all the way back in the big armchair.

"He's a real sweetheart, I know," she replied. "He's just not my type. I really hope he can get over me. I don't want to lose him as a friend." Sharpton walked back in with a medical kit and scooted the coffee tables up to the sofa I was on. He sat down on the table and opened up the kit. I watched him pull out a couple of test tubes and set them down. Then he pulled out a needle and clipped it onto a syringe, attaching to a tube, which connected to the test tubes.

"I'm just going to take some blood before I patch you up, Henry," he said calmly. "I don't want to risk losing the possible cure for the infection." I nodded as he leaning towards me. He stopped and looked at my arm. "This duct tape is making it pretty hard to get at your arm." I looked down at my arm and sighed. I started unwrapping the duct tape around my forearm, which took about a minute. I threw the long strip onto the ground and looked back at Sharpton.

"You owe me some more duct tape," I said. "It helps keep the air out of my clothes so I travel better in the air. Something I learned back in physics class." Sharpton leaned in and put the needle into the middle of ym arm. He pulled three different tubes of my blood and quickly packed them away in a small box, seemingly used for glasses. He then pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid and hooked it up to a syringe.

"Just some pain killers," he stated. "So I can sew you up without any pain on your part." I looked up at the ceiling and let the doctor begin his work. I could feel him getting to work sewing up the wounds and doing extra checks, trying to make sure my bones weren't broken. I know they weren't. I felt the bullet miss them and just tear through some muscle.

"I… I don't believe it," he said quietly. I looked down at him as he examined the large wound in my forearm. "Your muscles are incredible impacted… they're so dense I can barely get the needle through your skin. I dare say… you could've gone through several more shots before you went down." I looked up and closed my eyes.

"Thanks," I started, "I've been working out."

"Smart ass," he muttered.

"That's some good info to know if we run into any hunters out there, Sharpton," Zoey said quietly, "pack extra mags." Sharpton sighed and continue to work on my arm.

"You'd think we were still on good enough terms that you would talk to me on a first-name basis, Zoey," he snapped at her.

"Well you could be a little less frightened and stop dressing like it's Halloween!" he yelled back. Sharpton looked up at her and slapped his medical equipment down onto the table. He stood up and glared into Zoey's eyes.

"Uh, doc," I said quietly. "Could you… you know… finish up here? I kind of need my arm to…"

"Fine!" he yelled. He reached up and pulled off his goggles, followed by his medical cap. He then tore off his blue doctor's uniform and threw it to the side. Underneath he was wearing black, pinstripe pants and a white button-down shirt, with a red tie breaking the blanket of white. His skin was very dark and his head was completely bald. He finally pulled off his mask and threw it onto the floor.

"Happy now?!" he yelled out. "I mean what will it take for you to realize I still want to be friends with you?! You just keep pushing me away! I'm trying my best, Zoey! Maybe I'm just not as bad-to-the-bone as you would like. I don't go out, revving up my motorcycle and beating kittens with bats like your new boyfriend!"

"Francis is not like that!" she yelled back. "He's a nice person! You'd know that if you ever sucked it up and met him!"

"Well what about your Uncle?! He hates Francis, too. Bill and I used to get along like two peas-in-a-pod."

"It's because he's worried about me! He's never met someone like Francis and it's just new to him. Uncle Bill doesn't hate Francis, he's told me before. He just preferred your levelheadedness more. Which I didn't."

"Uh… guys," I said, quietly in the background.

"And who says I don't want to be friends with you anymore?!" Zoey yelled.

"You've been acting that you want nothing to do with me!" Sharpton yelled back. "Calling me by my last name! Never calling me! Ignoring all my messages! Explain that!" After all the yelling, the room got silent. You could cut the tension with a knife… but I pretty much had to do it with just some words.

"Not to interrupt," I started, "well… actually… completely to interrupt… but my arm is in pieces over here." Sharpton slowly closed his eyes and nodded. He turned away from Zoey and sat back on the coffee table.

"Right," he said quietly, "sorry, Henry. Let's get you patched up." He started to work on my arm again, and I could see the stress and sadness in his dark eyes. Zoey slowly walked up to him and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Louis," she said to him. Louis sighed and continued to work, but put on a small smile.

"No," he replied, "I am. I should've given Francis a chance. I was just nervous about you, is all. I'm sort of in the same boat as Bill right now. I promise, when this is all over, I'm going to take Francis out for a drink." Zoey smiled and walked back to her chair. I looked up at Louis again and leaned towards him a little bit.

"You're way too good for her anyways," I whispered.

"Hey!" Zoey screamed.

"Burn!!!" Louis yelled out. We all started laughing, swapping stories, and just talking until Louis was done working on my arm. When he was finished I sat up and rubbed the white bandages covering my forearm. Louis packed everything up and put the tubes holding my blood into his pocket.

"So you really think the cure is in my blood?" I asked. Louis shrugged and pulled off his gloves.

"No telling for sure," he replied. "We'll have to figure it out when we get out of Boston. Even if the cure is in here, there's no telling who it will cure. There may be a point in the infection where there's just no hope of going back anymore." I sighed and looked down at the floor.

"Like Jason," I said quietly.

"The infection seems to eat away at the brain, making the victims lose their common sense and rationality. I've seen just about every kind of these infected walking around in the streets. Some of them are just straight up nasty, but others might be useful."

"Like what?" asked Zoey. Louis put up his finger and walked into the next room. He came back with his laptop and opened it up. After a few moments of startup a document came up filled with writing. Louis scrolled through it, showing his extensive research.

"From what the men called in to clear the infection have yelled out while fighting the infected individuals, I've managed to pick up the codenames for each kind. Now the first kind are your average, everyday individuals, or common infected. Their only symptoms are a deteriorated mind, loss of motor skills, hand-eye coordination, and human nature all together. They also don't seem to feel pain. I've seen them run through quite a few bullets on their way to a human. Then there's these little hobbit-looking motherfuckers. They're called Jockeys."

"That's what Brock turned into!" I yelled.

"Well," Louis continued, "I've seen these things in action… and it isn't pretty. They jump on people's backs and steer them around by throwing their entire weight. I'm amazed at how functional their minds really are. They have the ability to assess where the most dangerous spot is for the victim and drag them towards it. Not only that, but for their size, their leg muscles are incredible strong, despite gaining very little mass."

"What causes them to be Jockeys and not just common infected?" asked Zoey.

"Well," Louis began, "in my professional opinion, I believe it's people that already have with is called Scoliosis. The already irregular shape of their spine must trigger the infection to actually try and cure it. The infection straightens out their back, but in turn causes them to hunch. The rest is a mystery. Then there's these fat bastards. People down on the street call them boomers. They're people who had something of an eating problem before they were infected. All that fat in their bodies started to expand, building their internal pressure to explosive proportions. One opportunity to examine skin from a boomer showed me that it is now stretched tighter than the outside of an inflated balloon."

"Chance to examine the skin?" I asked, with nothing but David on my mind. Louis nodded and pointed to the window on the other side of the room. I turned to look at it and cringed at the sight. The window was horribly stained by blood and green mucus.

"One of them exploded just below my window. Being on the second floor, the infected never really notice me up here. The boomer exploding sent that green slime everywhere. When it coated the men who shot the boomer, it made them some sort of immediate beacon to all the common infected in the surrounding area, making them attack the victims relentlessly. The boomers also have the ability to regurgitate this bile, supposedly in an effort to attract more infected." I thought back to David and his apartment after the infection. The green vomit that was around the entire room, and the mouthwatering aroma it gave off.

"It's the smell," I said quietly. Louis and Zoey looked at me, but I didn't look back. I was still staring at the window, lost in my thoughts. "That bile smells delicious… it's almost irresistible. My friend David became a boomer and that vomit was all over his apartment." Louis chuckled and scrolled down on his document even further.

"Well," he started, "perhaps you and I have met two very different boomers. I mean this stuff is stanky. I took one sample inside and it stunk up the whole place."

"Louis!" Zoey yelled. "Don't you get it? Henry is half-hunter. He's half-zombie. That's what attracts him to the boomer bile, just like all the common-infected. Henry just hasn't lost his mind, so he knows enough not to go eating and attacking it." Louis looked at me curiously before giving a few nods.

"Yeah," he said finally, "No shit?" He leaned down to his laptop and began typing away yet again. "You could really help me get down to the nitty-gritty on some of these infected. For example… do you know anything special about the ones they call smokers?" I snapped back out of thought and sharply looked at Louis. Images of Jason snapped through my mind. Those last pictures of him, with the bullet lodged in his forehead, were still burned into my mind. I wouldn't be surprised if they never left me.

"I really don't want to talk about it," I replied. "Anything else about boomers?" Louis knew I was trying to change the subject, and he was kind enough to oblige. He put up his hands and looked at his laptop.

"Unfortunately, no I don't," he replied. "But, there's a completely different type of boomer that's been showing up a lot more since the start of the infection. Instead of bile they get this sort of acid. From the damage I've seen that shit do, I wouldn't assume they'll be around too much longer before the acid actually dissolves _them._"

"So," I started, quietly, "they're all beyond saving?" Louis looked at his computer solemnly, and then to Zoey. After several moments of sighing Louis finally looked at me and tilted his head slightly.

"Not necessarily," he said finally. My attention snapped to Louis and I leaned closer to him. I stared at his computer, hoping to see what he meant. "There are two kinds of infected that might still have a chance. The only problem is… there ain't any fucking way you're getting me near either one of them."

"What are they?" asked Zoey, quickly.

"One is the giant freaks that take bullets like they're pebbles," he replied. "You know… the tanks. I noticed that tanks might be really strong, but that is only a temporary thing… I don't know how long it lasts. You see, after a while its body can't support its massive strength and frame anymore, so parts of its body start to wilt away. I've seen…"

"What's the other infected?!" I demanded loudly. Louis jumped and turned to stare at me. He looked at Zoey who shrugged, before looked back at me with frightened eyes. I knew Louis hadn't completely warmed up to me yet… and he probably thought I was still just a monster.

"The other…" he started, "… is the Witch." My hopes shot through the roof at that moment. Suddenly, my mission to save Veronica still had hope. I went to ask another question, when a scream pierced the air around us. All of us jumped and stared at the window. I quickly ran to the window, followed by Louis and Zoey. I stared down into the street… and what I saw still haunts me.

"Help me!!!" the man yelled down in the street. The man limped down the middle of the street, his clothes soaked in his own blood. He had his left hand over his right shoulder, holding his shirt firmly to his skin. It took me a few moments to realize that he was doing this… because his arm had been completely torn away. The missing limb was bad… but wasn't even close to the worst part. The man was covered with thick green goo that stained his clothes and covered his skin. However, this wasn't just some colored goo… this stuff was deadly. Smoke was pouring out of the goo as it burned away at the man's skin. The further he got down the street, the less and less skin you could see. Flesh was being replaced by blood and exposed muscle and hair was swiftly being burned away. Eventually the man stumbled and fell to the ground. He convulsed in pain on the pavement for another few moments before going completely silent. The only thing left was absolute silence in the air as the three of us watched his corpse start to rapidly decay into an abstract blob on the asphalt.

"What…" Zoey started, "what the hell was that? Louis. LOUIS! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" I stepped away from the window and became fully aware of how much the scene had affected me. I had no control over what happened. I just remember falling straight to the floor, slamming my head against the hardwood. I turned my head to the side and vomited uncontrollably, the burning memory of the event numbing the pain in my body. Zoey ran to my side and helped me to my knees. She rubbed my back and pulled me to her.

"It's okay, Henry," she whispered to me over and over again. Louis was still staring out the window, before stepping away and running across the room. He ran to a wooden cabinet and unlocked the padlock on it. He quickly swung it open and grabbed an Uzi out of it. He put some extra clips into his belt and pockets before turned and slamming the cabinet shut.

"Fuck this!" he yelled. "Zoey, you're here now, which means I don't have to be! I'm not letting these things pass peacefully by my house anymore! I'm going out there and giving these zombies something to fucking think about!" Zoey watched Louis march towards the door. She let go of me and ran to him.

"Louis!" she yelled. "What is wrong with you? You used to be so careful. Did you just go mad or something?" Louis sighed and looked into Zoey's eyes.

"We need to get out of the city," he replied. "The sooner we move the sooner we get there. Besides, that man was just murdered out there… and now the long-necked bitch that did it is standing over his body. I'm going to get some good revenge for that guy." Louis ran out of the room, with Zoey chasing him, leaving me alone on my hands and knees. I looked towards the window, hearing horrible choking and hacking sounds coming from outside. Long-necked bitch? What the hell did that mean? I slowly crawled to the window and clawed my way to my feet. I looked out into the street and saw an infected standing over the dead man.

"Oh my god," I said, in almost a whisper. My breath left me as I heard the front door to the building close. I could hear Zoey and Louis yelling in the street, but my eyes never left the zombie. My mouth dropped as memories flooded my head and overpowered my thoughts. It's like I was paralyzed standing up.

"…Tory?"


End file.
